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Aemma sunk into herself. To this point, she hadn't known her form could shrink any lower as she had against the table. Sacha had the temperament of Raanidus and his war hounds. The elf often wondered to herself if involving the noble was worth the trouble. She was horrified, then, to hear that yet another youngling had taken up their cause. While she'd only meant to ensure he would not report their musings to anyone of authority- she supposed another mage could prove useful to her studies. She certainly had little choice now. At the very least, the Astorian seemed the sort for discretion. And, despite his tendency for theatrics, Sacha  was soft of heart and noble in his intent. The young Vicellan looked between the pair of mages, as giddy as a pup, content with their new arrangement. 

In response Aemma stood upright from her post. [color=goldenrod][b]You should both get some rest. I will gather you come sunrise for the examination, Karlus,[/b][/color] she said as she motioned towards the doorway of the room. [color=goldenrod][b]I doubt Arlo appreciates our dithering.[/b][/color] She shuffled towards a few vials that sat at a small counter beside the cot before carefully collecting them.

Aemma could feel Sacha walk closer to her. He offered a firm hand upon her shoulder. As her gaze fell back to meet him he smiled. It almost brought her back to another time, another life...another boy. Her hand met his as her fingers caressed his with a maternal embrace. She returned his smile with one of her own. [color=9e0039][b]Thank you, doctor,[/b][/color] Sacha said as he made his way towards the room's exit. He looked back towards the Astorian mage. [color=9e0039][b]A pleasure to make your acquaintance.[/b][/color]

Aemma's gaze met Karlus' one last time as Sacha retreated from Arlo's quarters. She nodded him off before returning to her own vials. When she was both of the boys had left she retrieved notes from one of her pockets. The papyrus was ripped and crumpled, but on its page the diagrams and scribblings remained legible. The notes detailed a number of victims taken by the fog taint, their names and their symptoms. Towards the end of the page, emphasized by bolded lines, was one word. "Mute?" 

The dark-elf folded the notes away again before looking towards the door and then back towards Arlo. Snuffing out the torch that had kept the room only barely lit, Aemma let the doorway's tarp fall behind her as she stepped out into the hallway. Her shuffles echoed through the corridors of the infirmary. 
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